PISTOSI Well, if I consult the thoughts of the age, mind you this is being filtered by an immortal who has grown a bit disappointed with time … I believe that you are going to decay into impenetrable, indivisible things called atoms … a bit like unimaginably tiny and enduring pebbles … which will probably corrupt the soil and prevent anything else from growing in your spot ever again.

VELTIOSIThat’s not very comforting.

PISTOSI If you wanted comforting, you should’ve befriended a mortal.

VELTIOSIIndeed … Pistosi … will you bury me in a place where nothing would ever want to grow? I don’t want my death to cause trouble for some poppy plant.

PISTOSI Absolutely. I will.

VELTIOSI Promise?

PISTOSI Promise? Do you know that I’ve never done that before?

VELTIOSI Just promise me. Mortals need poppies and promises.

PISTOSI I promise. And, if it comforts you a little more, know that: I need poppies, too.